Los Angeles daily herald., 1887-07-03
4 Charming Little Love sketch.

WCudiuk Wao biOWN hCnis oot
fifteen days rer ned, and already the
newspapers of 20 neighborhood had
announced to the world in their blunt
rhetoric that the coats of.arms of Mile.
Suzanne de Stahl and M. Roger de Cap
Ian were about to be blended, when an
untoward accident set all at variance.
Nine. de Stahl and her daughter had
breakfasted at the chateau. While
waiting for the heat of the day to mod
crate little, Nine. de Stahl and my
grandmother had seated themselves in a
corner of the drawing.room and were
conversiug in low voice.
"Roger," said Suzanne gayly, "now is
the time to redeem your promise. Take
me to the Hermitage, as you said you
would"
had given this name to small, isola-
ted summer-house, kind of thatched
shed, which had built for my own use
in q grove behind the chateau. IL was
my favorite retreat on account of its rus.
tic appearance and solitude, the silence
of the spot being bivhen only by the
shrill cries of distant peacocks and guin.
eafowls.
We stole off noiselessly, and taking a
short cut went out through hidden
gate opening into the fields. For time
we tripped merrily along under an arbor
of chestnut trees and climbing vines.
She had slightly raised her riding.hab'
it, holding up the train with her left
hand.
pushed hurdle, and we started
along the outskirts of vast meadow,
down narrow, worn path, fringed with
a hedge where, in the spring-time.
myrtles, lilacs and wild roses howered
amid the hawthorn bushes. Here, every.
thing, untrimmed and unframed, grew
up in natural disorder that delighted
ME.
remember that, from the moment
she stepped into the little path and set
out through the wide meadow, where all
the fragrance of spring seemed to f3at
up through the clear air beneath the
blue, cloudless sky, it seemed to me
that nature had bedecked herself with
her brightest jewels to receive my
fiancee, and, unconsciously, repeated
to myself the words of the poet:
"Down the narrow path tr!pped my sweet,
Flowers springing up beneath her feet "
She ran ahead of me, merrily, Joy fully,
now and then uttering delightful little
screams, as a startled bird fitted out of
the bushes or q too hasty bee inadver.
tently grazed her hand or cheek. / let
her talk on, seldom interrupting her, toe
happy in listening to her sweet voice
and too busily engaged in watching her
graceful movements. Yes, l will &C.
knowledge that l loved her without re-.
serve. l felt proud in introducing her
to this little nook that had created for
myself alone, where no foot but mine
had left its print, where some one of my
thoughts still rested on each blade Of
grass, and shrub and leaf.
A warm breeze, redolent of the fra
GRANGE of the fields, made the hawthorn
twigs tremble, the white flowers sbim-
mering like pale flames. A world of
buzzing insects was humming, chirrup.
ing, playing and flying about us, while,
overhead. the great sun shone in all his
majesty. My dog Toby shared in the
common joy, and gamboled across the
meadow or rolled in the lswaet.scented
grass. In my rapture, l was ready to
swear that verything around lived,
moved, shone or bloomed for us alone. 1
loved this earth, radiant and beautiful
as o betrothed maiden, and from the
depths of my soul. l blessed that sister.
ly affection of Dame Nature, displayed
in the brightness of the day, the fra.
GRANGE of the flowers and the songs Of
the birds.
Ali the while, my own true love, my
beautiful amazon, blithely tipped along
ahead of me and, as she confided to me
all her dreams and hopes of happiness,
soon to be realized, she gayly swung her
riding-whip about her. While sporting
in this way she would now and then in.
adver,ently touch the frail stems of haw.
thorn, and the detached flowers, futter.
ing like silvery butterflies, would fall to
the ground.
A fancy for this amusement seemed to
grow upon her, and the flowers,
adroitly switched off, continued to drop
right and left, while the bushes, de.
nuded of their ornaments, appeared to
me to be reproachfully holding up to my
gaze their mutilated stems, like so
many bruised fingers.
"Roger," said she laughingly, "look,
it is showing"
In fact, the white fakes fell faster and
strewed the path.
made no reply. Without being able
to account for it, ! felt somewhat an
noyed. How could l help it? All that
surrounded me, the meadow, the trees,
the hedge with its hawthorn, its lilacs
and its wild roses, oil had. as it were,
become with time part of myself, SO it
seemed to me that each flower th,t fell
was part of myself dropping to the
earth, and to avoid treading on them, l
instinctively turned my footsteps aside.
Yet, I remember it well, she was at
that very moment speaking of the poor
who are oppressed, of the lowly who are
disdaiued; of the pleasure she derived
from going to their did, and, as she
spoke, she would raise her arm, switch
her whip around, and tufts of lilacs
would beLd down and hang dropping
like lifeless locks of hair.
Against my will became sad. l felt
like checking her arm.
"After all, reflected I, 'shs does not
think of what she is doing"
"Suzanne," said l to her, "what are
you doing?"
"Who; II" she replied gaily; "why
don't you see am amusing MYSELF"
And the cruel riding-whip, welded by
a skillful hand, switched right aud left,
up and down, while rose leaves were
scattered, lilac petals stripped off and
daises decapitated. With a sweet smile
on her lips she. the young girl, was
extirpating the flowers.
"Yet," said to myself. "they have
done her no harm. None of them, am
sure, have got in her way; not one has
pricked her fingers, or even grazed her
dress. Why then should she chastise
them? And still, what can l say to her
now? She does not understand"
So great was my fear of appearing
ridiculous that I hardly dared say any.
thing.
"Suzanne, at length risked I, in a
tone which tried to render jocose, "you
do not reflect. They suffer-"
"They-who?" queried she, half turn
inc around,